Authors: Kenan Hillard
Abel stared at Keera as she hung her head, exhausted from
the tale. “I’m sorry about your father Keera. He was a good man.”
Keera held her head up. “He was, Abel. And that’s why I
want to see Xonox pay as much as you do.”
“He will. We’ll find that guard too if he’s alive. I
swear.” Abel turned back towards the darkness.
“I don’t need to find him Abel, I already know where he
is.” Keera stated casually.
“You do?” Abel was confused. If Keera was in Bourdain this
whole time, how could she know the guard’s whereabouts?
“I do.” She said.
Now Keera was being coy. Abel waited for her to tell him
what she knew. It was evident she needed more prompting. “Well...?”
“He’s still at the Water Facility.” She said gripping the
gate.
“Wait.” Abel asked. “How do you know he’s still there?
Guards come and go.”
“No. He’s there. He’s never left.” Keera answered
confidently.
“But how do you know?” He questioned.
“I know because after all these years I never forgot his
name…His name was Connin Distor.”
Abel’s mouth dropped open. Then he closed it and gritted
his teeth together, his brow furrowed, he clasped his hands together once.
“Distor.”
The name spat out of his mouth. How many families had he
destroyed in his quest for power? Abel looked down at the ground and thought of
what he would do to him. His eyes caught Keera’s feet moving near him. He
looked up at Keera and let the aggression slip from him, he would need that for
the morning, he thought. Abel straightened himself, put his arm around Keera
and they walked back towards the warehouse.
Off in the distance, past the fence, blending in with the
shadows a familiar figure watched the whole scene play out. Even from one
hundred yards, his goggles allowed him to zoom in and decipher the couple’s
words. He was sure this was the young man he saw in the Grazen Woods, but the
woman was an unknown. The Mountie had surveyed the camp ever since he followed
Tommie’s trail from Gravope. While he watched the pair interact, he thought
about assembling his rifle and killing them both. Escaping once was
inexcusable, a second time was intolerable. Unfortunately, he was under strict
orders from Xonox to observe and report. He had not glimpsed Tommie Gun yet,
but based on the way Warden and his forces were mobilizing, he was sure they
were planning their attack. The Mountie turned his back to the camp, jumped
down behind a tree and pressed his wrist band once. “Xonox I’m here.”
“And...?” His employer questioned.
“Everything is as you expected.” The Mountie replied.
“Then you know what to do.”
“Yes sir.” The Mountie understood. The comm link went
silent. The Mountie walked off into the darkness.
CHAPTER 16
THE WATER FACILITY
It was early morning, dark and still, the sun was yet to
rise over the horizon. By the mask of night is how the three armies led by
Dazshal, Abel and Warden were able to set up and take position around and near
the building without drawing any attention from the inhabitants of the Water
Facility. The topography around the complex sloped down into a depressed area
on the east and north side, before flattening out to the west side of the
building and south where the lake began. The steep change in the terrain
allowed Dazshal’s team, which consisted mainly of sharpshooters including Forum
and Isnor, to set up on a nearby perch facing the north guard tower. Around
thirty troops converged on this elevated area with a direct sight line to the
towers. Grise, along with other hand-to-hand combatants, was along to watch
the snipers’ backs in case there was a close encounter with Distor’s squad. The
terrain sloped towards the east front gate and Dazshal watched the road
intently waiting for a visual on Xonox’s convoy. He was flat on his stomach,
peering over the edge holding the oval shaped dull, gray metal binoculars up to
his face. He sat motionless surveying the road from the Facility to the city.
The marksmen were laid out in a line with their weapons readied, waiting on
Dazshal to give the command. Just when the troops were beginning to get
restless, and the tip of the sun began to peak over the landscape, Dazshal
lifted his hand to make a fist, giving the ‘get ready’ symbol. First there was
just dust, and then he could make out the outline of a truck, the sound of the
vehicles soon followed, echoing off the land. The trucks ran in a straight
line, with two hummers leading and two others behind. Dazshal could make out
the double red ‘XX’s’ on the front hoods. As the convoy approached the guards
in the tower moved to open the gates. The large, steel doors began to slowly
slide away from one another revealing the inner courtyard. The group of trucks
hardly slowed down as they passed through the open gates. Guards leapt from the
vehicles, securing the perimeter, as the gate closed behind them. They circled
the water truck out of instinct more than necessity, the Facility was secure as
far as they knew. As Dazshal watched and counted the number of the convoy,
someone of impeccable dress and influence emerged from the Main Facility. His
royal blue suit was crisp and clean from shoulder to ankle. The black dress shoes
he wore shone from the glare of the sun. His visor covering his closely cropped
blonde hair was that of a high ranking officer in the defunct military. Blue
cloth lay above the black brim and double ‘XX’s’ across the face of the
headgear. Even his suit had metal bars of varying colors signifying some long
forgotten military triumph. The only problem was he never served in a war. It
was all a fabrication to project status. He was flanked by two armed guards and
everyone stopped and straightened their backs as he approached. The way the men
genuflected, Dazshal did not need to see his face to know who it was. As Distor
shook the hand of the Captain in charge of the convoy and all the attention
turned to the two men, Dazshal motioned for his team to start taking out the
guards in the tower. There were two per tower and they needed to be hit almost
simultaneously so no alarm was sounded.
Isnor and Forsum were trained on the southeast guard tower
closest to the group. The two guards were standing on the opposite end of the
tower both facing the courtyard. Forsum aimed his weapon and fired on the first
guard; he doubled over and collapsed. Isnor’s aim on the second guard was not
as true. The foreground guard turned around as the bullet pierced his ear. He
could see his fallen comrade on the floor. The guard’s eyes widened as he
lunged for the lever to sound the alarm. Forsum fired a second time and the
guard fell to the floor in a heap. The guards in all four southern towers fell
in the same manner. Now Forsum had to move quickly before the guard’s suspicion
was aroused. He put down the high powered rifle given to him by Luchi and
opened a long crate laying on the ground. Lifting the heavy green rifle with an
enlarged barrel, he checked the weight in his hands, and then he rested the gun
between his legs, barrel up. He pulled out the single round of ammunition, a
stick rocket. It was cone shaped with a rounded end, tipped with titanium. The
front was six inches long with a four and a half inch diameter. Rectangular
grooves were etched on four sides around the cone. A cylindrical, metal tail
projected less than a foot from the bomb. Forsum grabbed the rocket by its
metal stem and slid it into the barrel. He held the rifle up again with the
bomb sticking awkwardly from the end. Balancing the weapon he came up to one
knee, looked through the scope and adjusted slightly for the wind. He fixed the
crosshairs on the side of the building, where four of the metal panels met. He
breathed out slowly, flexed his finger. Suddenly he was interrupted by Dazshal.
“Take the shot kid. I can see the guards on the other side
of the gate starting to look anxious.”
Forsum was unresponsive as he zoned in on his target. He
shifted the weapon so it would rest on his inside shoulder. He grabbed a clump
of dirt and threw it up and away to check the wind again. He pulled the
trigger. There was a loud noise as the rocket sped off towards the Facility.
Forsum lurched with the kickback. The nose of the rocket rammed in between the
metal panels and instantly small metallic arms sprouted from the cone and dug
into the panel holding the bomb in place. Everyone crouched bracing for the
impending explosion. But the bomb either was on a delay or it was defective. It
was hard to tell when acquiring items from the Black Market, Forsum thought.
Everything was silent, he stood up to get a better look. The bomb was in place
and the arms were extended, it should have blown after the arms dug into the
wall. Piece of crap, Forsum thought. Then he realized the seriousness of the
situation. If the bomb did not blow, how would that affect Abel’s assault? As
Forsum was contemplating what to do next, fire shot through his right arm. He
looked down to see blood coming from his bicep, the bullet had passed through
cleanly. He knew the next bullet would be on the mark, but he was frozen in
place. Isnor sensed Forsum was too stunned to react, running over he tackled
Forsum to the ground as the second bullet whizzed past.
“Get
down!”
The guards had repopulated the tower and were returning
fire from the cover of the Facility walls. Dazshal’s men were exposed and were
having trouble getting a clean shot on the alerted guards. Forsum was not the
only one injured. Several people were hit and not faring as well. Forsum laid on
his back in pain as Isnor attempted to bandage his arm while not being shot.
“Get low and keep firing!” Dazshal instructed. “I need
someone to fire on that bomb. Maybe that will set it off.”
A young marksman from one of the cities volunteered for the
task. “I think I can hit it.”
She slid
forward to get a better shot. The other sharpshooters tried to cover her as the
bullets from the towers began to fall without ceasing. The young woman aimed
her weapon and then her body went limp. She was sniped by one of the guards in
the tower before she could show if she had the skills. The situation was
beginning to turn dire.
“We can’t hold much longer. This mission may be over.”
Isnor voiced the sentiment of the army around him.
Dazshal had no intention of standing down. “We have to hold
and we have to detonate that bomb. If we need to we’ll…”
A thunderous boom erupted as the stick bomb exploded
causing a massive hole in the side of the facility and destroying part of the
administrative wing. The guards fell backwards in the tower and Dazshal’s
forces pressed the attack.
Abel felt the explosion on the other side of the complex.
He could hear the commotion as guards scrambled to fortify the southern
position. With the cover of night he had led his team around the facility and
set up near the northwest wall between the main facility and living quarters.
Keera and Tommie Gun were near him with the other seventy men and women hugging
and wrapping the wall like a snake. Abel motioned to Tommie and he slung the
dingy backpack onto the ground. He pulled out the small square, red bomb, with
three colored buttons positioned on the left. He gently placed the device on
the building. His arm jerked as the magnet gripped to the wall. After pressing
the three buttons in rapid sequence he stepped back holding the small palm
detonator in his hand. Tommie had insisted on carrying the bomb even though
Warden had assigned a bomb specialist to the group. Abel was unsure if Tommie
could get the bomb from Warden’s compound to the Water Facility without
incident. It was up to Abel to make the decision on who carried the device, so
he put his trust in Tommie. They had to start trusting one another if they
planned to live through this assault. Abel signaled for everyone to move back.
He needed to wait a few more minutes before he gave the order to Tommie. The
group moved around the adjacent wall and crouched down in anticipation. The
Facility was on high alert, gun fire and hurried commands rang out across the
interior courtyard. The battle was clearly raging on the far side of the
complex. Abel tapped his nose with his index finger to signify the all alert
sign. The group gripped their weapons tighter as sweat dripped from their
faces, a combination of anxiety and a fear of the unknown. Abel bent down with
one knee on the ground, pointed to Tommie and braced himself. The wall blew
open with a roar of air, shaking the foundation as smoke and debris erupted
from the new entry. Abel stood up, shouted to his team and charged through the
rubble. The guards were not expecting a rear flanking attack, as they rushed to
regroup and redirect towards this new threat Abel was downing the guards at a
rapid pace. He was not one to normally shoot his enemies in the back, but these
were not normal circumstances. Tommie followed him with guns blazing, within
minutes guards were laying around the courtyard. Keera was stuck to Abel’s
side, firing wildly at her targets as the mix of smoke, dust and gun fire
swirled around them. Abel chalked her inaccuracy up to adrenaline; he knew
Keera would calm down as they progressed through to the towers. The convoy was
directly in front them in the middle of the courtyard. The guards were already
starting to close ranks and adjust to Abel’s team as more of the rebels poured
through the opening. As Abel and Keera laid down cover, Tommie was literally
cutting a path to the convoy, with his gun in one hand and a machete in the
other.